Vasilja sat at the small round table with her hands placed calmly in her lap. Outwardly, she was serene, but inside a storm approached the coastline of her heart.

Hailwic had left the café an hour before, telling her she wanted to find out if Dracula had passed through Vienna. Before leaving, she gave Vasilja a stern glance. “Look after Senka.”

“Thanks so very much,” Vasilja said, looking to where Senka was backed up against a pillar. Facing a young man with an excessive large and thick moustache. The young man kept inching closer, testing his luck. “It will make for such a delightful evening.”

“I like to think you’re getting just what you wanted, Vasilja,” Hailwic said with more than a hint of malicious humour.

“I wanted to go to the Opera. Not a bawdy little coffeehouse,” Vasilja said as Hailwic left with a mocking laugh.

An old man sat at the table next to her. Newspaper across his knee. Tea by his elbow in a small nickel pot. Orange bowl-shaped cup near his wrist. Steam drifting loose like slender aromatic ghosts.

A cigar was clenched between two big knuckles on his left hand. He touched his tongue to the tip of his fingers before turning each page.

During the slow deliberate flip of paper, he’d look at her.

Smile a wistful smile.

Suck a deep pull on the cigar.

Exhale gently.

Then look down. Content to admire without intrusion.

Each time, she wanted to throw herself at him. Tear the newspaper to pieces. Spit in his face. And rip his throat open with the sharp edges of his shattered cup.

Instead, she forced herself to remain calm.

And waited for Senka to grow bored.

“His name is Peter,” Senka announced when she finally dropped into the chair next to Vasilja. “He’s most fascinating.”

“Most fascinating,” Vasilja mimicked with exaggerated girlishness. “Honestly, Senka, I think it was a mistake to let you come with us. We should have left you at home. Just listen to you. Fascinating? I think I liked you better when you wanted to bite everything that moved.”

Senka pouted. “You should talk to him. You might like him. He’s very knowledgeable, Vasilja. About law. Philosophy. And even science. He’s studied them all.”

“He looks shabby, Senka. Look at his clothes. And I can smell him from here. He lives in a brothel, I’m sure of it. I’ll wager he never finished his studies. Did he?”

“Study bores him. He wants to study people instead.”

“For what purpose? That sounds a lot like wasting time. He’s not a writer, is he? Oh. He is, isn’t he? Of course. The shabby clothes. The silly moustache. The way he walks like every woman needs to know him. How distressingly banal.”

“He showed me some of his poems. They’re very short. I like them.”

“You only like them because they’re short. If they were of a proper and decent length, you’d get bored.”

Senka shrugged. “I didn’t think I liked poetry before.”

“I’m sure what he’s writing isn’t poetry,” Vasilja said with a delicate shudder of her shoulders.

“It sounds like it to me.”

Vasilja frowned, remembering Hailwic’s words. Shuddering, she sighed. “Can we leave this place, Senka? I want to see a recital. I’ll go crazy if I’m forced to sit here surrounded by old men drinking tea any longer. The cigar smoke makes me want to strangle every last one of them. The stink of it! How can anyone stand it?”

The young vampire looked about to argue. The pout had already touched her lips.

Then her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed into a disapproving pout. “Hailwic left you with me, didn’t she? She didn’t trust me to be on my own.”

“It’s your first time in a city, Senka. We were all a bit giddy our first time.”

“Even you?”

“You’re lucky it’s me who’s looking after you. If it was Hailwic, you’d be screaming like a trapped wolf by now. On my first trip away from Transylvania, she tied a ribbon from my wrist to hers. It wasn’t long enough for me to walk more than two paces behind her.”

“She didn’t!”

“She did.” Indignant scowl. “It was bright red, too. So, everyone saw it. It was so humiliating. And she didn’t mind. She told them I was her dim-witted sister and that if she didn’t keep me close I would run off and play with gypsies or something equally unattractive to city people. I haven’t tied a leash to you, so I would appreciate it if you showed just a little gratitude.”

Senka nodded, her lips curling with amusement as she imagined Vasilja trotting obediently behind Hailwic. It was difficult for her to picture it. “I’ll try.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Then, can we please leave? That dreadful man is staring at us.”

Senka turned and waved, a cheeky grin on her lips as Peter flushed with pleasure. “I thought you wanted me to learn how to control people, Vasilja.”

“Yes, but not his kind of people. He makes me sick to my stomach. Look at him. He’s a stray dog looking for a tree to urinate against. That’s all he is.”

“What a thing to say!”

“And, to him, you’re the tree.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Come on, Senka. That’s it. I’ve had enough. If we don’t leave, I’ll bite everyone here. Including you.”

Shocked, the young vampire put her hand to her throat. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. The smell of coffee makes me irritable.”

“Won’t Hailwic wonder where we are?”

“She’ll be fine. She’s gone to see Dracula’s lawyer.”

“He has one here?”

“He has one in most reasonable cities. There’s usually also a banker at the very least, but not here. If there was, I’d go and see him. I like bankers. They’re a lot more like us than most people. If Dracula was here, he would have told his lawyer. He’d want to make financial and legal arrangements, which lawyers love to coordinate. Especially considering the kinds of places he likes to stay. Nothing but the best for him.”

“Is that what Hailwic’s doing? Getting more money?”

“Why? Have you spent all of yours already?”

“Not all of it. But Mister Loos was very accommodating. I felt he deserved more than he asked for.”

“We gave you enough to buy at least a hundred coats. He must be very happy right now.”

“He was worried his wife would kill him. I kept him too late. I offered to talk to her.”

“Yes?”

“He said she’d definitely kill him if I did.”

Vasilja put her arm around the younger vampire and smiled warmly as they left the coffeehouse. “Hailwic says you’re changing, Senka. She says you’ll change us all one day. Please don’t change that much. I love you just as you are, you know.”

“Love?” Senka showed her teeth. Put her top hat on and adjusted its balance. It was only slightly too big and tended to push down uncomfortably on her ears. “Or is it that you’re just amused by how I don’t know everything about the world like you do?”

Vasilja’s smile didn’t waver. “It’s the same thing, in the end.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

They linked arms and strolled down the street. Vasilja loosening her shoulders the further from the coffeehouse they got.

In the distance, the sound of a violin soared into the air, filling the night with its mesmerizing song. More than one person walking the street stopped to cock their head with curiosity.

“Oh, listen to that, Senka. Listen! It’s exquisite!”

“Is it? I don’t know much about music…”

“You don’t need to. Just listen. Can you feel it? Isn’t it like rushing blood soaring across your tongue?”

“Not really.”

“You’re a heathen, Senka. A monster.”

The little hall was almost full, but Vasilja swept inside like it belonged to her. She clasped Senka’s hand tight, trembling with excitement as the violin wept.

Breathless, Vasilja slid into a vacant chair and stared.

Stared at the young woman dressed in blue and white. Lit by a row of gaslight lamps at the front of the stage.

The young violinist’s eyes were closed. Her mouth offering the smallest of movements as she worked her bow.

Senka’s gaze scanned the crowd.

Most people seemed fairly clean, she thought. The coffeehouse hadn’t been dirty, but there was an obvious difference here in social status.

Wealth, she thought.

Self-conscious, she glanced down at her clothes.

The coat and suit she wore were very nice. A few gentlemen in the crowd wore similar, though they’d left their outer coats at the door.

The ladies, however, dressed like Vasilja.

Roses in their hair. Bows and lace.

Immaculate.

Senka fidgeted for most of the performance, feeling a rising sense of unease every time someone in the crowd caught her eye. They always frowned.

Not with annoyance or displeasure. They were mostly surprised. Perhaps a little curious.

Their gazes would slide across to Vasilja, and their curiosity would rise.

Two women. One dressed as a man.

Heat licked the inside of her chest. A buzzing of bees forming in the hive of her heart.

She hadn’t felt out of place at the coffeehouse. In fact, Peter had complimented her boots.

But here?

Here, she was a thing to be scrutinized and assessed.

How did Vasilja stand it?

The other vampire was utterly absorbed by the violinist on stage.

Didn’t notice the staring.

Didn’t seem to care.

“Brahms,” Vasilja said softly between her teeth. Aimed the words to Senka’s ear. “It’s Brahms who composed this sonata. And she’s simply amazing with it, don’t you think? Her name is Marie Soldat. Did you know Soldat means soldier? Hailwic would like that. She should have come with us.”

“Everyone is looking at me.”

“Not everyone, Senka. Most of them are more interested in Miss Soldat.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Well, it’s your own fault. I told you to wear a dress.”

“But I like these clothes. They’re comfortable.”

“Fashion isn’t about being comfortable. It’s about wearing a uniform which allows others to make a judgement as to what kind of person you are.”

“Peter didn’t judge me.”

“That’s because he was busy thinking about what was under your uniform, Senka. He hoped your unusual attire made you the kind of person who would hasten to engage in unusually lascivious acts.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say about him. He was very nice.”

“Only because he wanted to get you out of your clothes.” Sigh. “Look, Senka. It’s your choice to make, of course. You can wear the hat and coat if you want, but you’ll need to learn to accept that other people will find it very strange. They’re trying to figure out if they like your strangeness or not.”

Senka scowled deeply. “I don’t want them to like me!”

“That’s not your choice to make. You can choose how you feel about them, but you can’t choose how they feel about you.” A smug smile teased her lips. “At least, not unless you learn my power. And I don’t think you will.”

“Can you make them all stop staring at me?”

“Possibly. But why should I? That’s a lot of energy I’d have to spend just because you wanted to wear a gentleman’s clothes. I might need that energy on the way back to the hotel.”

“Oh? What for?”

Vasilja tilted her head closer to Senka’s ear. “We’re in Vienna, dearest sister. This music is making my blood race. I am surrounded by people whose lives have no real meaning to either themselves or anyone else in the city. In fact, the only ones who’d value them at all are the two of us. So, what do you think I mean?”

Senka’s mood lifted immediately. “We’re going to bite one of them?”

“Hush. Let me listen to the rest of the performance in peace.”

“Of course,” Senka said, trembling excitedly. “I won’t say another word. I promise.”

She didn’t understand the music. Couldn’t grasp why Vasilja enjoyed it so much.

Sometimes the sound of the violin was like chalk on a board to her ears.

She tried not to flinch.

Tried not to fidget or sigh.

And, as a final applause vibrated the hall, she still waited quietly until Vasilja took her hand before speaking again. “There are two men at the front. One has a white flower in his jacket. And his hair looks like he uses glue to keep it in place.”

Vasilja nodded, not looking at them. “I noticed.”

“They kept looking at us. And I didn’t like it.”

Vasilja’s smile was broad as they glided outside with the crowd. “Then let’s go find them. They’ll want to take us somewhere quiet. Somewhere secret. Somewhere dark.”

“And then we’ll bite them!”

“There you go,” Vasilja giggled. “Something we can do together which we both enjoy. The night is not wasted.”